


The Things You Didn't Say

by Kamikrazy



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, It could go either way if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamikrazy/pseuds/Kamikrazy
Summary: There had always been words between them. It was harder to tell if the ones that had been spoken were louder than the ones that hadn't.





	The Things You Didn't Say

_ Though the myths diverge in this manner, popular remembrance holds that Polydeuces, as the son of Zeus, was a demigod and therefore immortal, while Castor, the son of King Tyndarius, was mortal. All accounts agree that Polydeuces was an expert boxer, Castor a horse trainer of great skill, and that the twins were inseparable. _

_ There are several different conclusions to the tale of the twins; in one, Polydeuces begs Zeus to give Castor a portion of his immortality and from then on the twins alternate spending time in the Underworld and on Mount Olympus, with one at each locale. In another version of the myth, Castor remains in the Underworld, but Polydeuces is allowed to visit him every other day. Most versions of the myth have Zeus immortalize the brothers as the two brightest stars of the Gemini constellation. _

Akihiko sighed, putting his pencil down and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. It was 3 a.m., he was only halfway done his history essay, and he kept swinging between a bone-deep tiredness and an itchy anxiety that made his skin crawl and sleep seem impossible. When he’d chosen his essay topic, he’d thought that his insight into the subject matter would make it easier. He hadn’t counted on how irritated he’d be.

He leaned back in his chair, staring listlessly up at the ceiling. His mind wandered quickly, replaying all of the moments Shinji had called Castor; the creases the pain of that summoning had put on the other man’s face, the magnetic pull between his Persona and Shinji’s that he’d felt as Polydeuces’ proxy every time Castor had gone riding. When they’d become aware of their Personas’ names Mitsuru had told them that Polydeuces and Castor had been brothers, that they’d been inseparable, immortal.

_ “That doesn’t mean we are,” Shinji’s brows had furrowed at that, his gaze growing pointed as he locked eyes with Akihiko—always quick to worry, to warn. _

_ “We’ve always been able to handle things when we’re together.”  _

Akihiko had felt so proud, so strong in that moment, so sure that they really could take on the world like they always had.

But then  _ that _ night had come, not with a bang but with shocking silence, the trickle of rubble settling to the asphalt in front of a tiny coffin that had once been the figure of a little boy. The night that had fractured— _ broken— _ everything. That had broken  _ them _ .

And then there had been gunpowder and blood, the reflection of a huge, sickly-green moon in red, red water that soaked into the knees of his pants, chilling his skin. The faltering grip of a weakening hand in his.

The sound of that strong, proud voice fading.

_ “This is how it should be…” _

Akihiko shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning forward until his forehead knocked gently against his desk. The air conditioner hummed to life, breaking the silence and stirring the room’s slightly stagnant air.

Why had  _ those _ been the last words? Why not something Akihiko could  _ do  _ something about? A request for revenge, an accusation,  _ anything _ would have been better. Just not that resignation, the acceptance. He couldn’t fix that. He couldn’t change to make that better. He couldn’t  _ fight  _ that. He just had to live with it.

His mugful of pens and pencils rattled as he thudded his head harder against the wooden desktop, two of his trophies rattled together with a soft, bell-like chime.

Live with the knowledge that all that time, ever since  _ that night _ , he hadn’t been good enough to keep that from being the last thing Shinji had wanted to tell him.

The pens rattled louder, the trophies clattered and continued to jitter together. His pencil rolled off of the edge of the desk and fell to the hardwood floor with a clatter. Akihiko closed his eyes tightly enough that they ached, a counterpoint to the low throb of his brow, to the clenching tightness in his gut.

Live knowing that he hadn’t been good enough to deserve anything but ‘goodbye’.

_ I’m so tired… _

He took a deep breath, sitting up slowly and staring at the paper in front of him for a long moment before bringing a hand up to pull a new pencil free of the cup, his right hand dragging the book of Greek Mythology closer. He needed two more quotes for his essay or his mark would suffer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my wonderful fianceé, who prompted me to write this fic and by doing so got my creative juices flowing enough to finish my other extant fic on this site! I love you!!!!!!


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